


The Scoundrel and The Stagecoach

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, F/M, Name-Calling, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, kinkmeme light, okay this is really tame for a kinkmeme i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24285766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After a night at a party, Annette gets a little rambunctious in the stagecoach on the way home. Felix has always been good at getting her to settle down.Fill from the kinkmeme light!
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59
Collections: Anonymous, FE3H Kinkmeme Light





	The Scoundrel and The Stagecoach

“Felix,” Annette giggled as she crawled into his lap. “I had soooo much fun tonight.”

He winced. His wife was barely a hundred pounds soaking wet, but even sober she was known for her clumsiness and she was decidedly  _ not _ at this moment. 

“Didn’ you have soooo much fun, Felix?” Settled comfortably on his lap, her bright blue eyes were level with his, and they were almost too bright to look at. 

“Sure,” he answered, not trying particularly hard to sound convincing.

“Oh, come on, you grump,” she said, and she poked at his cheek. 

“I’m not a grump,” he said, grumpily, and turned his face away. 

“Are too.” Annette wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her chest into his, and pressed a quick, sloppy kiss against his mouth. “You’re my grump.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “You taste like alcohol and chocolate.”

“Thanks,” she chirped happily. She slipped off his lap and onto the leather seat, giggling as she did so.

“Would you sit still? You’ll hurt yourself. And that wasn’t a compliment.”

“Felix, the seats are padded leather and the floor is two feet away. I will not hurt myself.”

A surprisingly sober thought, given that Felix had to half-carry her out of his newly promoted battalion Commander’s estate and into their carriage for the ride home. At least, he thought so until he looked over to find her glaring at him with her tongue stuck out and arms crossed over her chest. 

Her current state of total inebriation wasn’t exactly Annette’s fault; the chocolate in the deserts was spiked, and Annette kept with her normal habit of eating as much chocolate as physically possible. She didn’t realize until the new Commander’s wife mentioned it and she almost choked on her third slice of cake. 

“You are sooo handsome in that suit,” she said suddenly, and she was standing over him with her head ducked to avoid hitting it on the low ceiling. 

“Please sit,” he said, exasperated. 

“Make room for me,” she whined, trying to settle on his lap again. 

“Annette,” he snapped as the carriage jolted and she smacked her head on the ceiling. “Enough. Please sit down already.”

Her lower lip trembled, and he knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose because she was too drunk to think of such an effective way to make him feel guilty. 

“Fine. I’ll sit.” She scooted over to the opposite end of the carriage, to the bench across from him. It was little more than an arm’s length away, but he still felt the burn of her punishment. 

“Wait, ‘Nette,” Felix sighed, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. You just smacked your head on the ceiling.”

She turned her head away, petulant, and turned to gaze out the window. “A bump on my head doesn’t hurt half as much as the emotional wound I’ve received from my husband.”

He grumbled under his breath. She swayed a little in her seat but remained steadfast in her purpose of glaring into nothingness, surely pretending it was Felix she was glaring at. 

She’d probably forget all about the perceived slight in a few minutes if he let it lie, but he did hate seeing her upset at him. Besides, he didn’t really have to snap at her. 

He turned so that he was sitting next to her, snaking an arm around her waist too quickly for her to push him away. “Don’t be mad at me,” he said as he pulled her into his lap. 

“Hey!” she shouted, struggling against him. Her skirts billowed out as she kicked her legs out, but he held her easily in place. “Let go of me, you  _ scoundrel!” _

“I’m a scoundrel now, am I?” he asked, and he pressed his lips to her neck, and she leaned into him reflexively. Like offering milk to the meanest of the mousing cats at the castle. He tilted his head to hers for a proper kiss on the lips, but she turned her head away, determined to stay angry at him.

“You’ve always been a scoundrel,” she answered quickly, and he scoffed into her pale skin. 

“What else, Annette?” Now that she’d stopped struggling so much, he trailed his hand down the stiff ribbing of her corsage. 

“Um,” she hummed, and he could see her cheeks turning a warm red as his fingers skimmed against the length of her skirts and buried themselves under the hem. “Fiend.”

“That’s a new one,” he remarked, and he pressed his mouth to her shoulder. “Any others?”

“Felix, I know you’re teasing me, I -  _ Oh,” _ she sighed as his finger skimmed over her thigh. 

“You what?” he asked, lightning curling in his chest, satisfied with the way her addled mind could hardly keep up with her annoyance at him and the smallest of stimulation from his fingers. 

“I’m still angry with you for… for…”

“Hm,” he said against the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck. “If you can’t remember then I suppose we’re fine, then.” He drew his fingers away, toward her knee, and tried again to press his lips to hers.

“Snapping at me!” she shouted, pushing him back by one of his shoulders. “You snapped at me.”

“Huh. So I did.” He froze his hand in place on her thigh, and he could feel her breath hitch in his grip on her waist. “I believe I apologized for that, didn’t I?”

She nodded, and he inched his hand up until his thumb caressed the bottom of her panties between her legs. He could tell from the light touch that she was already slick, and he pressed another kiss against her skin. 

“You did, but… but you always go around apologizing when you don’t mean it and then teasing me later.”

“I’d never tease you,” he said as he stroked his thumb over her again. 

“Felix,” she whined, “you’re teasing me  _ now!” _ With a light chuckle against her skin he pushed the thin material of her panties aside and pushed a finger into her center. A blissful sigh escaped from between her lips. 

Slowly, he slid his finger out and ran it along her seam, back and forth, gentle enough not to slip inside. He knew her body well, and although they hadn’t done anything quite like this in such an open setting, he knew exactly what she wanted in a way that made it extremely easy to tease her. 

He didn’t say anything, but he released her waist to tilt her chin down down toward his face and she blinked at him, considering whether or not she really wanted to lose his teasing game.

Trapped as she was on his lap, there wasn’t much she could do to increase friction between them without repositioning them entirely, and, defeated, she threw her arms around his neck to catch his lips in a kiss. 

He got what he wanted, so Annette could have what she wanted. He slipped two fingers inside of her slick folds, thrusting into her, matching the pace of her groans against his lips and swallowing them greedily. The pleasured noises she made left him lightheaded, as drunk as she was but in a different way, and he didn’t mind when she pulled at his hair to get him to tilt his chin back so she could dip her tongue into his mouth. 

Some inner lining of her skirts was rubbing into the back of his hand, but as she clutched at him desperately, their silly bickering forgotten, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

He tightened his fingers against her ribs, and adjusted his hand so that his thumb was rubbing circles into her clit.

A high pitched whine echoed into his mouth, and she pulled away from him, too focused on his hand to kiss him any more. “Felix,” she gasped. And she lowered one of her hands to his chest, which was covered by a formal coat at the moment, and she rubbed her fingers over the brass buttons there. 

She always came quickly when she was drunk, perhaps because she was more uninhibited than usual, or because she didn’t have the will to stave off on orgasm under his skilled fingers. He had to hold her tightly around her waist as she spread her legs open further and further and threatened to fall off his lap. He regretted not laying her on the seat, hiking her skirts up, and taking her there. 

She twisted her fingers into his coat and he bent his head to pull her into a messy kiss, in part to keep her quiet enough so the driver couldn’t hear. Her whines surely permeated the night around them, but perhaps he would think she was laughing, or something. Felix didn’t care too much just then. 

He kept thrusting into her, carrying her through her orgasm until she twitched her hips away from his thumb. Two fingers still inside her, he raised his hand to the back of her head to stroke at her hair. “Do you still think I’m a… what was it? A scoundrel?”

“Of course I do,” she said, and she pressed a quick kiss against his lips and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “What sort of man does that to his wife in a stagecoach? Shameful, You scoundrel.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his fingers away to wrap them around her waist. “It  _ did _ get you to stop bouncing around the carriage.”

“Took advantage of me,” she said, and she closed her eyes as she clambered into a lying position with her head on his lap.

“Go to sleep, ‘Nette,” Felix urged, running his fingers through her hair. 

“Don’t wake me up when we get home. Just carry me inside, like a princess.”

“Sure,” he said, and his tone was as exasperated as it was lovesick, and she smiled into his lap as he leaned against the window to get some rest on the way home, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Excited to be contributing to the kinkmeme! Hoping to do more fills ahaha. Leave a comment if you like!


End file.
